


The Cold

by icancarryonmywaywardson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hypothermia, Hypothermic Dean Winchester, Panic Attacks, Worried Dean Winchester, hypothermic sam winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 00:09:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14320104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icancarryonmywaywardson/pseuds/icancarryonmywaywardson
Summary: When a ghost traps the Winchester brothers in a basement with a rapidly dropping temperature Dean's selflessness almost gets him killed. Nothing more than brotherly love, no Wincest. Some time in season 3. One shot





	The Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first supernatural fanfiction, so I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

The Winchester brother had been investigating some mysterious deaths in a small town called Wakefield in North Dakota when the hunt went terribly wrong. The deaths were caused by hypothermia, in the middle of the summer and with the boys luck they were the next targets. They were in the house were the bones of Timothy McGregor were supposedly kept, why anyone would keep bones in their basement baffled Dean. The family who owned the house was out for the day, Sam had made sure of it.

“Sam” Dean said with concern while jiggling the door handle. “It’s frozen shut” Sam made eye contact with him and nodded. They needed to get out of there quickly or they would be the next victims. Sam had insisted that they both were sweater and pants despite the heat outside, just incase and boy was Dean glad Sam had thought ahead, because the temperature was dropping at an alarming rate. 

After trying all the exits, slamming their bodies against the doors, and attempting to break the door by shooting it, they came to the conclusion were stuck, with no sign of escape. Dean looked over to Sam just as the spirit materialized behind him.  
“Sam!” Dean yelled in warning. Sam turned around and attempted to dodge the chair that flew his way, but was hit on the head instead. Dean ran towards Sam as he collapsed on the ground, unconscious. 

Dean raised his shotgun, loaded with rock salt, and hit the spirit in the middle of the chest. The spirit vaporized and Dean checked for a pulse on Sammy. His shoulders slumped in relief when he felt the pulse still strong. Unconscious, he was just unconscious. Dean ran around frantically looking for the bones.

“Son of a bitch” he exclaimed when he discovered that there were no bones to be found in the basement. Great, he was stuck with an unconscious brother, in a freezing basement, waiting for the ghost to return. 

Dean returned to Sammy, when he noticed that Sam was shivering violently. His whole body seemed to convulse on the floor he was shivering so hard. Dean didn’t even have to think twice, he removed his sweater and placed it over Sammy’s cold figure.

The cold suddenly seemed to hit Dean with great force and he noticed he was shivering more than Sam had been, so he grabbed Sammy and laid down beside him, pulling him close to share body heat. 

It could have been a minute, an hour or a whole day, but by this time Dean could not feel his legs. Luckily he could still move his arms. He looked over at Sammy, noticing how he was moving ever so slightly.

“Smmy” Dean mumbled, hoping for a response. Sam continued to stir and eventually sat up, tearing his body heat away from Dean.  
“Cold Dn.” he said, although it was barely audible.  
“I knw Smmy” Dean replied, barely able to utter those words. By now Sammy was shivering harder than before. Dean hated seeing Sammy in so much pain so he removed his pants and top, wiggling Sammy’s long limbs through the material. Sam muttered in protest, but was unable to fight back. 

Dean was left in only his boxers, he couldn’t even remember why they were here in the first place. It had to be a hunt right? Or were they at a friends house? Why was he so cold?  
Dean did the only thing he knows how to do to keep himself from panicking. He hums Metallica. By now Sammy was unconscious again. Dean felt like that was a bad thing, but he couldn’t do much to wake him, he was barely awake himself.

His breathing became labored. Why couldn’t he breath? Why couldn’t he feel his own body? These questions lingered in his foggy mind. His eyes slowly drifted shut, and the last thing he heard before slipping into darkness was the sound of a door opening.

***

When Dean woke up he was in a hospital bed. A breathing tube ran up his nose, and an I.V. stuck out of his arm. He tried to move to rip the I.V. out of his arm but was stopped when he felt the throbbing pain his body was in. Sam knows he hates I.V.’s, why would he let them stick it in his then? 

Sam. His thoughts were panicked. Where’s Sammy? Is he alright? Is he alive? 

His breathing picked up, he couldn’t breath, his chest tightened. What if Sam was dead? His whole goal in life was to protect Sam. Had he failed?

He violently clicked the call button for the nurses. He couldn’t breath, he could die if he doesn’t breath. But maybe he deserves to die. He failed Sammy. He failed the one command that his father had always told him. Protect Sammy.

A nurse walked in calmly, if Dean had been breathing he would have hit on her. When the saw his rapid breathing her eyes widened and she yelled for more nurses. He hoped Sam was okay. Then he fell into oblivion.

***

This time when Dean awoke he saw a familiar face. Bobby’s worried expression looked down at him.  
“Bbby?” Dean mumbled confused. Obviously he was on some type of drug, his head was fuzzy.  
“It’s good to see you’re finally awake sleeping beauty.” Bobby replied, trying to bring light to the situation.  
“Smmy?” he questioned. Bobby seemed to understand.  
“He went to go get coffee, son. He’s alright. You’re the one who almost died. What were you thinking ya idjit? That was certainly not the right situation to strip down to your underwear.” Although Bobby’s tone was angry it was clear that he was worried. Dean just blinked, and Bobby began to wonder if he’d even heard him. Sam entered the room. Bobby looked at Sam.  
“I’ll go get the nurse, tell them he’s awake.” Bobby said before exiting the room. Once they were alone Sam started to look angry. Dean laughed at Sam’s scrunched up face.

“Seriously Dean? You could have died. You’re heart stopped, Dean. I thought you were going to die.” Sam yelled angrily. 

“Yu ok?” Dean asked with a raspy voice.  
“Yes, thanks to you. Just a mild concussion.” he replied. “I’ll get you some water.” 

When Same returned he gave the cup to Dean, who had to use both hand to hold the cup. He sipped timidly through the straw. Bobby returned, the pretty nurse in tow.

***

They had given him a once over, checking blood pressure, temperature, reflexes, giving him the simple task of resting for the next couple of days. Bobby, Sam and Dean all left, Sam helping his brother get to the Impala.

Dean refused to let Sam drive, claiming he was in perfect condition to drive, so Sam told him if he could walk the rest of the way to the Impala he could drive. Dean let out a angry huff and allowed Sam guide him to the passengers side. Sam blasted his music, telling a complaining Dean that he was driving. The boys followed Bobby’s beat up truck back to his house, preparing for a week of rest. All Dean could think about on the way to Bobby’s was how it had been worth it, because at least Sammy was okay. 

Protect Sammy. He intended to do that or die trying.


End file.
